


Gussied Up

by Crazyhotsoup



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Arthur Morgan Whump, Arthur Whump, Body Dysphoria, Gender Dysphoria, Implied Sexual Content, Misgendering, Panic Attacks, Projecting, Prostitution, Trans Arthur Morgan, Trans Male Character, Vent Piece, Whump, ftm Arthur Morgan, vent - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:13:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26231728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crazyhotsoup/pseuds/Crazyhotsoup
Summary: Arthur stares in the room's full-length mirror.He should've never agreed. He should've never let Dutch goad him into agreeing.The corset digs into his sides. He stares into his reflection.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 38





	Gussied Up

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry to all the Kates (if any), but I totally rip on your name. I couldn't stand the idea of using my own deadname for him, so here we are, going for the only name I could think of that could've fit. 
> 
> Major dysphoria and just a total vent piece, projecting if you will

Arthur stares at his reflection in the room's full-length mirror. 

He should've never agreed. He should've never let Dutch goad him into agreeing. 

The corset digs into his sides. He stares into his reflection. 

His hair is long again, for the first time in years. Dutch had asked him ahead of time enough that he had managed to grow it to a length where even pinned up it reached his shoulders. 

He looks into the mirror. 

Cheeks lightly brushed with rouge, darkened eyes. 

His hair is done up in ringlets and a fancy bun. Mary-beth had taught him how a week prior. 

He looks like an entirely different person. 

Dutch picked him out an elegant evening gown, designed to show off his curves. The things he tried so very very hard to hide. His small chest is hidden well enough in the dress. 

He looks like a drowned rat stuffed into a green evening dress. 

Admittedly, it would be a very pretty piece on someone else, Mary-beth maybe. Not him. 

A knock at the door resounds through the room and he nearly trips in the heels. 

He opens the door and takes in the sight of Dutch. 

The older man is dressed in a three-piece suit, looking absolutely stunning. Arthur wishes desperately that he could've been put in that. 

"Kate." Arthur wants to rip his stomach out through his throat. No one had called him that since Lyle. No one. 

"Archibald." His voice is pinched. Dutch nudges him as he takes his offered arm. He tries again. "How are you this evening?" His voice morphs into a sickly honeyed, southern belle echo of his own. He has to raise the pitch back to its natural cadence. 

Arthur wants to rip out his own throat. 

"Fine, dear." He leads him out of the hotel and towards the stagecoach outside. "James and Charles will meet us at the party." Arthur recognizes John and Hosea's disguises. He wishes he was Bartholomew, Harrison, Tacitus, any damn thing except Kate. 

He makes a noncommittal hum. He itches to smoke but his purse is empty so he can stuff jewelry into it. 

"We need to go over the plan again?' Arthur nods and glances down at his gloved hands. 

"You're gonna find Thomas Smith and get him somewhere _private_. While you're _indisposed_ , we'll rob the party-goers and once you're finished with him, we'll get the hell out of there."

"Got it, Dutch." The older man grins and grabs his shoulder. He gives a small smile and glances down at his fingers. 

"Shouldn't be too long." Arthur nods and looks out the window. What he wouldn't give to be robbed right then. 

The stage pulls onto the lane leading to the manor and Dutch grabs his elbow. 

"Minimal drinking, Kate." Arthur's face pinches and Dutch frowns. "Smile dear, be inviting."

Arthur has to swallow down his disgust. 

He steps out of the coach and onto the lane. He takes Dutch's arm and the man leads him towards the building. 

The night wanes on, seemingly uneventful. Arthur manages to snag jewelry straight from the ladies themselves. Dutch gives him a pointed look and he knows he needs to find Thomas. 

Arthur wants to kill Dutch. 

Thomas has his hand on Arthur's chest and he wants to rip it off. 

"You're a beautiful woman, Kate." Arthur knows what he looks like. Honeyed Brown hair, blue eyes. He's any man's dream. He just wished he wasn't. 

The man's hand runs up his leg, pushing the dress with it. 

Arthur grunts and tilts his head to give Thomas more space to kiss along. 

He knew he shouldn't've agreed. 

Thomas sucks a mark into his neck and Arthur tries to lose himself in thought. 

Thomas pulls down his bloomers and Arthur lays back on the coach. 

Thomas hurriedly undoes his trousers and Arthur focuses on a painting over the mantelpiece. 

It's quick and rough. He had enough sense to tell Thomas to finish on his stomach. Thomas listens, thankfully. 

A thick wad of cash is pressed into his hand and Arthur tucks it into his purse. He finds Dutch and keeps the sour expression at bay. 

He locks himself in his room at the hotel. He heard Dutch knock twice but ignores him. He tears the dress when he removes it. 

Arthur feels tears well in his eyes and throws the clothing in a pile on the floor. 

He glares at his bare reflection. His arms are wrapped over his chest and he pulls on a union suit. 

Arthur feels the panic set it. 

Dutch might make him do it again. 

He might make him.

And if he says no?

You did it last time with no problem, _Kate_ , why's this time any different? 

He drops to his knees and wraps his arms around himself. 

The breaths come stuttered, gasping. 

He can't draw in a lungful of air. 

His chest burns and he wants to dig his nails into it. Rip until he's flat, scarring be damned. 

Arthur bites into his tongue. The taste of blood fills his mouth and he spits on the floor. 

A ruddy mix of orange-red and spit pools. He spits again. 

Arthur can't slow the thoughts. 

He just rocks on his knees. 

Dutch is gonna make him do it again. Dutch is gonna make him do it again. Dutch is gonna make him do it again.

He tries to take deep breaths, tries to steady himself. 

He breathes in through his nose, holds, breathes out through his mouth, waits, and repeats. 

The panic ebbs and he finds himself enough to slip into the sheer sheets.


End file.
